Yeah, I realize that Dwanollah bitching about baby names is akin to a vegetarian complaining about well-done hamburgers, but I just can’t help myself. See, all around me, family, friends, and acquaintances are all going baby-mad. EVERYONE is having young ‘uns… and sometimes it seems if I hear about one more little Sierra Rose or Ethan Chi, I may speeyack.

I mean, I understand how names’re important and blah blah blah. And I’m certainly not advocating that only very traditional names like John and Catherine be considered. But, after years working in a chilluns’ section of a bookstore in the early nineties, it was hard not to roll my eyes when yet ANOTHER little Brandon or Ashley came barreling along. O Nancy My Nancy and I actually used to keep count of the Brandons, Dylans, Michaelas, Ashleys, Chelseas and Briannas we saw per day. I’m sure their parents had the best of intentions… well, maybe… but by the time poor little Emma S² gets to, like, third grade, she’s going to wish her parents had picked something other than her generation’s “Jennifer.”

And little Freedom Dax Peckerhead is going to be in therapy.

It seems as though baby names would have an element of common sense about them, but, in general, they clearly don’t. I mean, The Husband-Type Man and I like to joke that, should we decide someday that Spawning is the way to go, we’d name our offspring after favorite literary characters: Frodo and Dickon. Because then kids would come from other schools to kick our kids’ asses.

But, see, that’s a JOKE. I love the character Dickon in The Secret Garden, but in America, in this decade (or the next), would that name really fly? Again, common sense.

Maybe it would help matters if there was a Yucky Baby Name Police who could be present at the Signing of the Birth Certificate. When the parents are asked “And what is the baby’s name?”, if they should reply something like “Khryssa Kaelynne” or “McKeagan James-Jasper Hunter,” then all these sirens would go off, and people with Super Soakers and a big butterfly net would come swooping out from secret hidden doors, crying “Alas, alas, the child must be repossessed!”

I’m not saying I hatehateHATE every Skyler and Lucas in the world; the Kidlet’s name is Sklyer, in fact (which might be part of the reason why I call her the Kidlet instead). And I’m not saying all “unusual” names suck, or every single person who names their kid Connor True should be automatically bitch-slapped. For instance, my uncle is named Dayne. I think this is an absolutely beautiful name. Gram picked that name because we’re Danish, and she thought “Dayne” looked better than “Dane.” On the surface, this breaks several Cardinal Rules of Baby Naming: cre8tiv spelling (TM The Bad Baby Names Forum, where I get the best names for my Sims….), superfluous use of the letter “y,” etc.

Of course, Uncle D was born in, like 1950, not 2001, so that stuff wasn’t the same overly-trendy, overly-cutesy, overdone overused issue it is now. Now… now there’re the gushing parents-to-be who come up with such impractical and frightening things like “Cody Blayr, Brylee Karsyn, Brayden Tanner and Kailyn Rylee”.

It’s enough to make one writhe and groan in agony.

Or to come up with a Super-Judgmental and Opinionated batch of Rules for Naming Babies! Yeehaw!

Dwanollah's Super-Judgmental and Opinionated Rules for Baby Names

1) Don’t name your baby after a soap opera character.

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